Pushed Right Back
by x.savvybizbie.x
Summary: Prequel to my discontinued Dark Knight story, To Need The One You Hate. An insight into the Joker's childhood with his cousin, my OC Mercury, explaining his obsession with clowns, why he is the way he is and how he got his scars.
1. Congratulations

**Author's notes: Hi, I can't believe it's been so long since last time I updated my Dark Knight story! Anyway, that one has been discontinued, but for anyone who was reading it or has read it, this has the same OC, Mercury. It's set in her's and Jack's childhood, up to their late teens. You don't have to have read my other TDK story to follow this one, as it's more like a prequel. This chapter is just an introduction really, but I will update pretty soon with my next chapter - I have more time now all my exams are done. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight or its characters.  
**

**Chapter 1 – ****Congratulations**

Room 18 at the Gotham Hospital was filled to the brim with balloons, flowers, cards and presents. Through the mass of pinks, creams and yellows a mother was just visible, cradling a baby in her arms. The sight was incredibly beautiful – the look of love in the new mother's emerald eyes, a strand of golden hair falling in her face, a smile on her plump pink lips. No amount of gifts would make that woman happy; all she needed was her child. A nurse opened the door quietly and pushed a few balloons out of the way.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" she asked kindly.

The mother nodded, her eyes still focused on her child. "Mercury," she murmured.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's certainly different."

The mother nodded again. "It suits her."

The nurse smiled warmly. "Well, I'll leave you in peace. Are you comfortable?"

"Where's my husband?"

"I'll get him for you now, Mrs Bridges."

The nurse left quietly, but the mother hardly noticed. She was dwelling in her happiness, enjoying the sound of her name – Mrs Bridges. She wasn't 'Miss Thomas' anymore. She was loved, and she had a beautiful baby. She had everything she had ever dreamed of.

The door opened again, and this time it was her husband, his hand in his pocket. She had thought him to be incredibly handsome since the first time she saw him, never did she think she would be marrying him – he was her boss, after all. Her wedding was the happiest day of her life, as it was also the day she gave birth to Mercury.

"The nurse tells me you've decided on a name," said Mr Bridges, sitting down beside her. She finally took her eyes off Mercury to look into the warm chocolate pools that were her husband's eyes. "Mercury," she said, savouring its sound.

He placed his large, tanned hand over his daughter's tiny, ivory one. "It fits her," he agreed. "But I thought we were going to call her Jackie if it was a girl."

"Jackie can be her middle name," replied Mrs Bridges calmly.

"Lorraine, do you think that's fair?" he asked angrily. She stared at him her eyes wide in shock. She had never seen this side of him before. "What I mean to say is," he started, calmer. "Don't you think we should call her Jackie, seeing as we both chose that, and then Mercury for her middle name?"

Lorraine, who had been stubborn all her life, shook her head. "No, Frank, I like Mercury better. There are so many Jackie's, but how many Mercury's do you know? It's different. And Jackie reminds me of the cheerleader who stole my boyfriend when I was sixteen, anyway."

"Well, you are the mother," Frank replied coldly. "Mercury Jackie Bridges…it will do."

Lorraine nodded. "It's perfect. She's not a Jackie. Not at all."

"Lorraine, I have a present for you," Frank announced, changing the subject.

"Why?" she asked. "You've given me my happiness, that's all I could ask for. I have plenty of material gifts Frank, what more could I need?"

He pulled a small, red velvet box out of his jacket pocket.

"Oh Frank, not jewellery!" she cried. He smiled.

"For being so brave."

She shook her head. "Frank, I can't accept this."

He opened the box, making conversation as he pulled out the object inside.

"She doesn't look like either of us really; does she? She's very blonde, blonder than you. What colour are her eyes?"

"Grey, very pale grey," Lorraine muttered, her eyes focused on the necklace that her husband was holding in his long fingers.

"I would've expected blue at her age," he replied. "So, what do you think?"

It was a simple white gold chain, with a heart pendant. Engraved in an intricate script on the heart were the words 'Lorraine, You Have My Heart'.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. He kissed the tear as he fastened the chain around her elegant neck.

"You will always have a piece of me," he told her.

* * *

Two years later, in the same hospital, in the same room, an entirely different scenario was occurring. A mother lay asleep in her bed, her baby lying in a cot beside her, he too was sleeping. The only card was crumpled at the foot of her bed, a brown stain on the back from a coffee spill, the 'congratulations' hastily scribbled. She didn't even know who it was from. There were no flowers, no cards, no gifts, not like when her sister had given birth. But it had been different then. Chris was just out of college when her sister got engaged, to a local millionaire, Frank Bridges. The next thing she knew, her sister was pregnant. Chris had been so jealous as she watched her beautiful sister kiss her drop-dead gorgeous husband; the only thing between them was the bump beneath Lorraine's layers of cream, designer silk wedding dress. Then she screamed as her water broke, and it became a mad rush to get her to the hospital. It was a quick birth, and without barely a cry of pain or a curl out of place, Mercury Jackie Bridges was born. She was a beautiful child, although she had a strange look in her cold eyes. Everyone assumed she would grow out of it.

A little over a year afterwards, Chris met Andrew at the club where she worked as a waitress (or dancer). He was handsome, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and a little too well-dressed for such a seedy place. She advised him to go somewhere else before he got mugged, but that 'somewhere else' turned out to be Las Vegas with Chris, where they got married in a drunken craze. That night, Chris became pregnant.

She opened her eyes slowly as she heard a door open, smiling weakly when she saw her husband walk in. Much to everyone's surprise, they had stayed together, despite the arguments at two o' clock in the morning that had gotten them thrown out of their central apartment, and Andrew getting fired from his position as boss of a large company. They were now living in a hideous apartment in a rough area of Gotham, surviving off the little Chris made at the club, before she became too large to fit into her 'uniform', and loans from her sister.

"Hey," she muttered.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You did good, Chrissy, you did good," he told her, holding her hand as he sat down.

"Thanks," she replied. "I'll be able to go back to work now I've lost all that weight."

He nodded. "So…a boy, huh? That's cool; I can teach him to play baseball."

"Yeah, in our non-existent back garden," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, don't speak like that. You can go back to work now, and it won't be long before I get a job, and we'll have enough money to move out of that crappy little hell-hole."

"I hope so," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Andrew brushed a strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes.

"What's he called?" he asked quietly.

"I dunno, you pick," she replied.

"No, that's the mom's job," he said quickly.

She sighed impatiently.

"Jack," she said.

"That's it? Just Jack?"

"Just Jack."

"Jack Napier. Not exactly gonna get him far, is it?"

"Well, let's hope it gets him further than Andrew Napier got you," she snapped. "Now piss off, I want to sleep."

"You're not going to speak like that in front of Jack, are you?" teased Andrew.

"Andrew, I'm very hormonal right now, go away. Didn't your mother ever teach you that when women say something, they mean it?"

Andrew sighed and stood up.

"Oh right, so when they say, 'does this make me look fat', they really _do_ want an honest answer, that's not their way of getting a reassuring 'of course not, darling'?"

"Andrew, if you don't get out of here in ten seconds, I'm calling the nurse."

He left before she reached three.

**Author's notes: I hope this has interested you, please review with your thoughts and suggestions. I will update soon x**


	2. Back Home

**Authors notes: Here's chapter two, hopefully this is getting better but I think it will be more exciting as the story continues. There is not much of Mercury or her parents in this story, but as Jack is the main character, I'm sure you won't mind. Also, I have posted pictures of all my OCs for this story and my other ones on my profile page, so if you're curious then please take a look. If the link doesn't work (but it should), then I've written who it is next to the link just in case. I will add more pictures as more OCs appear.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Dark Knight or its characters.  
**

**Chapter 2 – Back Home**

Chris walked into their apartment, Jack clutched in one arm, her suitcase in the other. Andrew followed her in, shutting the door behind him. She dropped the case onto the moth-eaten beige carpet and passed her sleeping baby to her husband.

"Why are you passing him to me?" asked Andrew.

"I've been carrying it all the way for two miles, because _your_ car broke down. My arms deserve a rest."

"Don't blame this on me," he muttered, making his way to the kitchen. Chris followed him. "And 'it' has a name."

"That's right, I forgot, 'Jack'. Couldn't you have picked a more original name? I mean, Lorraine called her daughter Mercury. I wanted to win for once," she said, half to herself, as she got herself a beer.

"Me?" cried Andrew, also helping himself to a can, balancing Jack precariously. "You're the one who said 'just Jack'!"

"I'd just given birth, Andy; they'd pumped me full of drugs! I was hormonal!"

"Yeah, you mentioned," he said under his breath.

"Shut the hell up," she snapped. "It's your fault I'm even in this situation."

"If it wasn't for me you'd still be living off your sister's money, single and depressed."

"Oh, what's changed?" she sighed dramatically. "Oh crap, someone's calling."

Andrew rolled his eyes and left the room, the harsh trill of the phone ringing in his ears.

"I can divorce her Jack, but she'll always be your mother," he muttered to the child as he threw himself down in the pea-green armchair that smelt strongly of dust and vomit from when he'd gotten drunk a few months ago, switching on the TV. As usual, he didn't watch the news. He flicked through the channels, eventually settling on MTV, where 'Video Killed The Radio Star' was playing. He turned the volume up as loud as it would go without waking up Jack, to drown out his wife's strained voice.

* * *

"Hello?" Chris snapped into the receiver.

"Christine, hi, it's Lorraine!" Chris rolled her eyes. "I thought you were never going to answer the phone!"

"I apologise for my lateness Lorraine," Chris replied sarcastically.

"Oh don't worry," said Lorraine, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Mercury, baby, mommy's on the phone. I'll be there in a minute." Chris rolled her eyes again at the sound of Mercury's high-pitched voice in the background. "Oh, you wanna say hello to Aunty Christine? Okay, I'll pass you over."

"Lorraine, no-" started Chris.

"Hello, Aunty Christine!" chirped her niece. Chris was amazed at how well she speaking.

"How old are you, Mercury, sweetheart?"

"Two."

"When will you be three?" Christine asked gently.

"Hmm…" she thought for a moment. "A week after Jack turns one."

Chris raised her eyebrows. Jack would have a lot to contend with – Mercury was a genius child.

"Baby, give me back the phone. Thank you." Lorraine was back. "So, Christine, how is Jack?"

"He's… good, thank you, Lorraine," Chris replied sharply.

"I'm sure he is. So who does he look like? You or Andrew?"

"He has Andrew's fair hair and my dark eyes," sighed Chris impatiently. She hated the sappy questions.

"Oh, he sounds just beautiful. How are you handling being a mother? Are you finding it hard?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Chris angrily.

"Don't be cross, Christine, every finds it hard to start with-"

"Yeah, well it's coming across like you think I can't cope with being a mother or something!"

"Christine, that's not how it is at all!"

"Bull," Christine scoffed. "Don't act like you think I won't be able to cope, Lorraine."

"Chris, I trust you. But you're not living in the best of homes right now and neither of you have jobs, you don't know how long you two will stay together for-"

"Stop it!" cried Chris, tears building in her eyes. "God, Lorraine, why are you such a crap sister?"

"What? Christine, wait-"

Christine didn't get to hear what her sister had to say, hanging up on her mid-sentence.

"Bitch," she muttered as she made her way into the living room. "Andrew, turn that down, I've got a headache as it is and that isn't helping."

"Your sister?" asked Andrew, pressing the mute button on the remote.

"How could you tell?" Chris said, sitting on the arm of the chair and resting her head on his shoulder.

"You always use that tone when you're speaking to her. And when you're mad with me. And when you're mad at anyone, for that matter, but usually your sister."

"She's implying that we'll be bad parents."

"You gotta ignore her, babe," Andrew said, kissing her ear. "She's got this perfect life going on which she didn't have a few years ago. Give us a bit of time and we'll be hot on her tail."

"But how long is 'a bit of time'?" she asked, tears falling down her tired face.

"I don't know sugar, it could be a couple of months, it could be a couple of years, it could be a couple of decades. We've just got to hope for the best."

She nodded, smiling weakly.

"Thanks. Can you look after Jack while I have a nap, just for an hour?"

He nodded, a forced smile plastered on his lips.

"Thanks honey."

He groaned as soon as she left and stroked Jack's forehead gently. He began to cry, a horrible, raspy, sound.

"No, no, no, don't do that," he whispered, scooping Jack up and taking him into the kitchen. He cursed silently as he remembered that they had forgotten to buy any bottles. He reached into a cupboard and found an old, chipped mug with clowns decorating it that he had owned since he was ten. To tell the truth clowns had always scared him, but it was a gift off his father. He filled it with milk from the carton in the fridge, not bothering to heat it. All he cared about was shutting up that dreadful crying.

"Here you go," he cooed, holding the cup to Jack's tiny lips.

Jack pushed it away with his small hands.

"You don't want it? No?" Andrew asked, confused.

Jack stared at the cup silently, a curious look clouding over his dark eyes. The look was dark and haunting, one of the scariest things Andrew had ever witnessed. He had never seen eyes that were so black either. Jack reached out his hand to touch the mug carefully, and then chuckled quietly. His crying had long stopped.

"What the hell? You're like, a few weeks old, Jack!" cried Andrew. "You're not supposed to be laughing and pointing yet. For crying out loud, most kids are like, months old, before they do that!"

He had no response from this strange child, who was still mesmorised by the clowns.

**Author's notes: Sorry this chapter was so short, hopefully the next one will be longer. I've been ill for the last couple of days so this might not be my best, sorry about that. The next chapter will probably be up on the weekend. By the way, I don't know how realistic that bit about Jack at the end was, but it is fiction, and weird things can happen. Please review and tell me what you thought x**


End file.
